"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."
-Severus Snape
"You used to be much more subtle, and I think, more clever than you are now, Lucius, confinement must be affecting your judgment."
"Potter. To what do I owe this, unscheduled, visit?" Harry cocked his head, staring at the blond man in vague puzzlement. It was difficult now, remembering how it was that Lucius had so frightened him all those years ago. Perhaps it had been physical. Lucius was quite tall and powerfully built for a wizard, easily topping six feet, and obviously unusually fit for a wizard, and Harry had been, well, he had been eleven, hadn't he, and small for his age. Lucius could have picked him up one handed and shaken him like a rag doll if he hadn't considered such physical intimidation to be incredibly gauche.
Perhaps it was just that Harry had forgotten fear. That had happened right around the time Voldemort killed him, he recalled. After all, once you have died, what else is there, really, to be afraid of? He swung his wand carelessly in his left hand, watching Lucius watch the wand suspiciously.
"I came because Greyback was caught. I suppose you knew that, though, how could you not? Why did you send him? You had to know he was too much of an idiot to succeed, and I don't see why you would want Hermione dead anyway." Lucius eyes widened at the emotionlessness in Potters tone. Even now he had expected some show of fidelity to the mudblood whore, some trace that the Boy-Who-Lived still felt some affinity for the rest of the Golden Trio who had helped him defeat the Dark Lord. But there was nothing, no anger, no ranting, nothing but this strange, vague curiosity. It was as if Potter was becoming increasingly disconnected from the world around him, and only emerged when something sufficiently interesting caught his attention.
"It was a test, more than anything," he finally admitted with a sniff. "To see what, if any, precautions Draco had taken for her safety, and what the reaction would be to her abduction." Harry nodded slowly. He understood testing the waters when one was going to lay a trap. It had taken several years of Auror training to develop that level of subtlety in him, but once Harry Potter learned something, it stayed with him. Then he frowned.
"I thought I told you I was dealing with them? We still don't know what they're up to, do we, and that won't do at all. We have to know what they're up to before I kill them. We don't want to kill them for no reason, you know, Kingsley frowns on that sort of thing." He frowned a bit darker at that, and Lucius imagined that it was getting more and more difficult for Potter to tolerate being dictated to by Shackelbolt, having his own inclinations reigned in more and more often. He shook his head at Potters naivete, finally deciding it was safe to tke his eyes off the wand and turning to pour himself a drink.
"Really, Potter, are you really so dense that you haven't figured out what they want? They want power, as does everyone else. I will hand it to the Mudblood that the plan is a sound one, woo the masses and the great unwashed will beat a path of approval to your door. I suspect they intend to set Draco up to be the next Minister of Magic eventually, though they will find that a harder go than they realize." Harry seemed to think about that for a short while, shaking his head slowly.
"It's never a good idea to let a Malfoy have any real power," he said quietly. "Look at you Lucius, gods know you're mad, and that apple never did fall far from the tree." Lucius noted the glow around the tip of Potters wand with a growing unease. He had taken on the tutelage of the Potter boy with no small measure of reluctance once he had managed to negotiate his way out of Azkaban and into Kingsley Shackelbolts confidential protection. The Dark Lord had been mad, certainly, but it was a manageable, understandable madness based on the love of power and dark magic. Potter was simply unstable, and teaching him dark magic was only making that instability more obvious. He was quite sure that one day Potter would snap and likely go on a killing spree that would leave at least London in a shambles. He intended somehow, to be well clear of Britain when that happened.
"So you intend to kill Draco?" he couldn't make his tone sound regretful, even if he wished to try. The boy was nothing but a muggle loving blood traitor, and Lucius would be well pleased to see the boy choking on his own blood for his treachery.
"Someday, probably," Harry replied pensively. "He never did really deserve to live. I wanted to kill him when he turned and joined the Order, but everyone believed he had changed, that he wasn't evil. But I knew," he nodded wisely at Lucius, eyes hard behind his glasses. "Oh yes, I knew that blood will out and Malfoy's are evil. Now look. He'll get himself and Hermione accepted and flaunt the Dark Mark and that bloody tattoo all over and people will admire them for it. They won't see what they are really about. They won't see that it's all a ploy, that they only want to cause trouble, and unrest. They're disruptive to the peace. I worked hard for peace, Lucius, and there will be peace if I have to kill every dark wizard and criminal to have it." Lucius discreetly leaned away from the tip of Harry's wand that was sparking red and black as his temper and magic began to slip.
"Harry, mind your wand," he said quietly, laying a hand on the boys arm. Potter looked down, surprised, and holstered it, cutting off the sparks.
"I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lose control, but no one really understands…" he trailed off, staring into the fire as though it were saying something incredibly important to him. Lucius rose slowly and took his hand, leading him into an adjoining room.
"I think perhaps you need some time to relax," he said almost gently. "And there are several friends of yours who have missed your company." There was a chorus of loud, excited hisses as they entered the room and Harry seemed to come back to himself for a moment, smiling with innocent happiness at the room of coiling, slithering bodies. He stepped fearlessly through the wards that Lucius had set to only accept him, watching as the serpents cleared a path into the middle of the room, then began to twine and slide across Harry as he sat down, then finally lay down among them, drowsy and relaxed. Lucius watched for a few minutes as Harry began to speak in Parselmouth to the collected snakes, obviously carrying on multiple happy conversations before shaking his head and exiting the room, a shudder of revulsion coursing down his back. He would not admit to himself that there was also a cold chill of actual fear.